GUILTY 28

Danniella Waters Saturday May 20,2016 As I lie in bed, the darkness of the room surrounding me, I listen to the rain pouring down outside of my window, praying that I’ll fall asleep soon. It’s loud and violent, and I can’t help but think that the sky is crying with me. I wonder again what I could have possibly done to deserve this. Is this my punishment for being a bad mother? Why does this sort of thing happen? Is there a reason for it all? Is this finally my prayers being answered? All those months of wishing I never had her, wishing she’d just disappear. Did I do this? Am I truly responsible for my own daughter’s disappearance? The mere thought makes me ill. I hear the door creek open and I turn my head. The light from the hallway illuminates through the opening and I can see Winston’s face as he enters the room. He remains quiet and moves slowly as he pulls out the covers and crawls into bed, not saying a word. At least he’s not sleeping on the couch. I lie there, debating what I should say. Finally, I build up the courage. ‘Winston,’ I say as I lie flat on my back, staring at the ceiling. He turns his head and looks at me, not saying a word. ‘Are they going to find our baby?’ I ask through a hushed whisper. I hear him take in a deep breath. ‘I hope so.’ I turn to face him. ‘You know I didn’t do this, right? You have to believe me.’ ‘It’s been a long day, Danny. Let’s just sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.’ I nod my head and roll over so I’m facing the window again. I pull the blankets up to my chin and wipe away the single tear that falls down my cheek. --------- Detective Gerald Sullivan Saturday May 20, 2016 I stand back and observe the scene in front of me. Red and blue flashing lights line the street; families huddled on front lawns and sidewalks, trying to get a look at what’s happening; a coroner stands over the body; analysts dusting everywhere for finger prints, shoe prints, anything. It all happened so quickly. One moment I was a silent intruder in this woman’s home, trying to locate her as a suspect. The next, she is the victim. I raced over to where she lay on the floor, not thinking about disrupting the scene in any way. The only thought going through my head was to check for a pulse. And when I did, I realized all too soon that I was far too late. By the look of it, she had been dead for hours, the pool of blood, dark and dried. The forensics team has arrived now. There’s a blood splat analyst photographing the body, the walls, the counter. It’s eerie how everything in the home remains so intact despite the traumatic demise that occurred here. A few dishes sit in the sink, a scrap book lies open on the dining room table, a bag of groceries sit on the floor beside the counter, unpacked. The question haunting my mind, was she lying here, dead, when I came by the house earlier? Was there anything I could have done to prevent this? Robbins appears at the corner of my eye and I turn to her. ‘We need to bring Winston in for questioning. Stat.’ I tell her. ‘Will do,’ she nods and looks down at the body. Rosie’s long black hair flows effortlessly beside her, down onto the floor. There’s a large gouge in her forehead where the blood leaked out. Her eyes are wide open, face pale. We both stand there, frozen, staring at her. ‘What do you think we’re dealing with here?’ Robbins asks. ‘They were having an affair,’ I say. ‘That’s all I can gather thus far. Where the baby is and how Rosie ended up dead is beyond me.’ ‘But you think it’s him?’ ‘I’m hoping he can give me some answers.’ Holden and Ashby go the Waters’ residence to retrieve Winston, yet again. By the time I get to the interrogation room, he’s already seated inside, hands folded neatly on the table. From what I heard, he caused quite a scene as they hauled him out of bed and into the squad car, Danny echoing similar sentiments as she stood behind and watched the suspicion transfer from her to her husband. Why does everything seem to lead back to him? ‘Evening,’ I say as I enter the room. He looks up. ‘It’s morning now.’ I check my watch. He’s right. It’s after one a.m. I pull out the chair across him and take a seat. ‘Why am I here?’ he asks. ‘Nobody has told me anything. And for you to come to my house unannounced in the middle of the night, waking my wife an I,’ he pauses. ‘It’s unacceptable.’ ‘Why Don’t you tell what’s unacceptable, Mr Waters? Lying multiple times in what is now to be considered a homicide investigation.’ His eyes widen. ‘What? You found Emerald?’ ‘No, I’m afraid we haven’t. Your mistress, on the other hand,’ He stares at me. ‘What are you talking about?’ ‘Rosie Miller. She was found dead in her home this evening.’ His face contorts. ‘What?’ ‘When was the last time you had contact with Ms Miller?’ ‘I already told you, I Haven’t seen her since last Wednesday!’ ‘Do you have an alibi? Anyone who might have seen the two of you together?’ ‘I don’t know, we were in a coffee shop!’ He’s getting worked up. ‘When did you first begin your relationship with Ms Miller?’ ‘Back in March, I think.’ ‘You Don’t know?’ ‘It was March.’ ‘Did you have any reason to suspect Ms Miller of kidnapping your daughter, Mr Waters?’ ‘No, No, of course not.’ ‘So you didn’t find it suspicious that a week after you broke off your relationship with this woman, your infant daughter goes missing?’ ‘No, Not at all.’ ‘Hmm, interesting. And you don’t find it a bit strange that tonight, two days after your daughter’s disappearance, Ms Miller turns up dead?’ He stares at me. ‘I don’t know what you want me to say. I Haven’t spoken to, nor seen Rosie, in over a week. I don’t know what could have happened to her.’ ‘You don’t seem all that broken up about it,’ ‘How dare you?’ he spits. ‘I am devastated inside. I may not be sobbing on the floor, but the fact that Rose is dead crushes me. I loved her. I really did.’ The room is silent, neither one of us saying a word. ‘Am I being arrested?’ he finally asks. ‘No,’ I say. ‘Not yet, anyways.’ ‘Then if you’re not going to charge me with anything, am I free to go?’ I stare at him, analyzing part of him. ‘You may go,’ I say. ‘But this isn’t over. We will find out what happened to her.’ ‘Good,’ he says. ‘I truly hope you do. And I hope you and the other cops in this place actually do your God damn job and find my daughter.’ --------- Danniella Waters Sunday May 21, 2016 I open my eyes and check the clock beside my bed. Its’ eight - thirty. I’ve barely slept at all and can feel the heaviness of my eyes. I want to go back to sleep, but I know that no sleep will come. Especially after the night we had. The police showed up here after midnight, reading off constitutional rights and taking my husband away in the back of a cop car. It was excruciating. But part of me couldn’t understand how one minute, all eyes were on me, and the next, they’re on my husband. What the hell happened? What did they find? And why is Winston being questioned by the police in regards to the disappearance of our daughter? Winston would never hurt Emerald. This is all one big misunderstanding…. Today is the third morning I’ve had to wake up to this nightmare. The third morning I’ve had to wake up without her here. Every day the sun continues to come up, and I’m still here, but she is not. I sit up in bed and look at Winston who is sound asleep. He Didn’t say a word once he got home. I didn’t press him, either. I know what it’s like to be accused of something you didn’t do. I’ll get on with my day and let him rest. He needs it. But hopefully I will know all the details from the night before soon. Perhaps he’ll be ready to talk about it later. I thought they would have found her by now. Come rushing through the doors with good news. She should be safe and sound, sleeping in her crib. The police are supposed to be doing their job. I can only imagine the worst. That some man has her locked in a room somewhere, and she’s crying, wanting Winston or me to come and hold her. But no one’s there. No one’s coming for her. She doesn’t know what’s going on. She doesn’t know that worlds are falling apart because of her absence. She has no idea! Having your child go missing is a mother’s worst nightmare. But being blamed and accused for such a thing, I can’t even put into words how that feels. The thoughts are driving me mad. I’m locked in this damn house and I can’t do a thing about it. All I have is my mind, hoping it will keep me sane, but I feel abandoned from even myself. How did I not know about the blackouts? How could I allow myself to forget things that have happened? I feel so stupid. As though there’s something inherently wrong with me. Doctor Kelvin tried to reassure me that none of this is my fault. That it’s simply in my brain, beyond my control. But I can’t help but feel responsible. Regardless of these blackouts, I know one thing for certain. I didn’t do anything to my daughter. I know this. It’s a fact. I have this feeling deep down - a mother’s intuition - that someone took my baby. I have to believe that’s true. Because if I don’t - if I let my mind slip, even just the slightest - I’ll be sucked into a vortex of blame and confusion that I didn’t know was possible. And if I somehow did do something to my own daughter, then God only knows what else I am capable of. It’s nine a.m when I wander aimlessly down the hall, debating if I should eat something or not. What a pleasant surprise. Detective Robbins is back, sitting in the corner of the living room, eyeing me like I’m some sort of criminal. I try to ignore her as I walk past and into the kitchen. When I glance in the sink, expecting to see that giant pile yet again, all of the dirty dishes are gone. Mom. She must have cleaned them last night. I smile to myself, knowing that she’s here and always watching out for me. I pour myself a double serving of coffee, then walk over to the living room and turn on the TV. Perhaps there’s an update on Emerald. I sit back in the chair and flip through the channels until I find the news. I wait a couple of minutes, watching the weather updates, news about Russia/Ukraine war, Rwandan refugees, Covid - 19 deaths and a car accident on the N3 this morning. But then I see her face - that same photograph I gave to the police the night she went missing - and I sit up straight. I turn up the volume and listen to what they’re saying. ‘Police continue to investigate the disappearance of six month old Emerald Waters who went missing from her home Thursday evening. The Davenmore Police station released a statement early this morning stating that they still do not have any solid leads on the case. They are asking anyone who may have any information to contact the police at the phone number listed at the bottom of the screen.’ After a few minutes, the screen changes and a blonde woman appears to talk about the presidential elections. I turn my head and stare at Detective Robbins. A laptop rest on her legs, she’s typing something. ‘Did you stay awake all night?’ I ask her. She lifts her head and meets my eyes. ‘Another officer and I took shifts. I’ve only been here a few hours.’ I nod my head. ‘Any updates?’ ‘No. sorry.’ She says. An hour later the doorbell rings and I jump from my seat, thinking its Gerald with an update. I do admit, I’m still angered by his accusations yesterday. Though, I can’t completely blame him. It is partially my fault that they had to restrain me here. Nonetheless, I still feel the slightest sense of abandonment from him. Perhaps it was because he was the only one who showed me an ounce of compassion the night she was taken. And now I feel as though everyone has turned on me. He was my last hope, and now not even he believes me. I walk to the door in six big strides. When I unlock the door and pull it open, I’m completely taken back to see who’s standing there. It’s my brother, Liam, Lianna, Shophie and Clayton stand slightly behind him. ‘Hey, sis,’ he says, forcing a small smile…… TO BE CONTINUED…